


Nightmares and Hot Chocolate

by fragments_and_pieces



Category: Red vs. Blue
Genre: Fluff, Gen, Hurt/Comfort
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-26
Updated: 2013-12-26
Packaged: 2018-01-06 06:56:43
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 882
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1103818
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fragments_and_pieces/pseuds/fragments_and_pieces
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Caboose has a nightmare, but Wash and Tucker are there for him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Nightmares and Hot Chocolate

**Author's Note:**

> Last gift for the secret santa! Enjoy!

THUD.

Tucker's eyes snapped open, the sudden loud noise jerking him awake. He sat up on his elbows, listening. The room was silent; he couldn't even hear Caboose's usual light snoring or incoherent mumbling.

“Caboose?”

The room remained silent. Tucker squinted through the inky blackness at Caboose's bed, trying to determine if the younger Blue was curled up under the covers or not. He cocked his head at the sound of a quiet sniffle. “Caboose? Is that you?”

Tucker heard another sniffle and sighed. He pushed his flimsy Blue Team blanket off and got out of bed. The floor was cold on his bare feet and he shivered, adjusting his boxers as he walked towards the light switch. He foot suddenly caught on something warm, and he pitched forward, crashing to the floor. “Ow,” he muttered as he sat up. He felt around in the darkness and grabbed an arm. “Caboose? You okay, man?”

A sudden weight latched itself onto him. Caboose was sobbing now, burying his face into Tucker's neck, practically in the older man's lap. Tucker frowned. Must have been a pretty bad one this time, he thought to himself. Tucker didn't say anything; he wrapped his arms around Caboose and pulled him closer.

Caboose had been having nightmares for weeks now, ever since Church ran off with Carolina, Tucker supposed. Sometimes Tucker would hear him whimpering in his sleep, waking up with a start, then, silence. Sometimes Caboose would shuffle out of the room after a few minutes of laying there, and Tucker assumed he went to Wash's room. This was the first time Tucker had seen things get this bad, and he wasn't sure how to handle it. Tucker didn't even know what Caboose had dreamed about; Caboose never told him and he never bothered to ask. It wasn't his problem. Apparently, now it was.

Tucker began to rub Caboose's back, and the other started to calm down. Soon, he was quiet. “You want something to drink?” Tucker asked. He felt Caboose nod shakily. He gently pushed Caboose off, then stood, extending his hand down to the younger man. Caboose grabbed it, and Tucker hauled him up, leading them out of the room and down the halls and into the kitchen. Caboose remained silent the entire time.

He sat down at the table while Tucker went to the cabinets, rummaging through them and producing three mugs. Caboose didn't question him. He filled the mugs with milk, sticking them in the microwave. While they were warming up, he went to a different cabinet and pulled out the box of hot chocolate mix, pulling out three individual packages and then putting the box back. He leaned against the counter near the microwave as he watched the timer count down the last few numbers, taking the mugs out and setting them on the counter when it began to beep. He poured the mix in, getting a spoon and mixing each mug.

Tucker managed to carry all three to the table at one time, setting one down in front of Caboose and one in front of himself, putting the third mug where Wash usually sat. He took his seat across from Caboose, who was taking a sip from his mug. “Thanks,” he said quietly, voice still tight from crying. Tucker nodded at him, taking a sip from his own mug.

“What are you guys doing?”

Caboose and Tucker looked towards the doorway. Wash was standing there, arms crossed, eyes squinting from the kitchen light. Tucker motioned to the empty chair. Wash took a few steps forward. “You guys okay?”

“Nah.” Tucker shook his head, jerking his thumb towards Caboose. “He had another nightmare. A pretty bad one this time, too.”

Wash glanced at Caboose, noticing how upset and withdrawn the other man looked. He sat down in the empty seat, raising an eyebrow at the mug sitting in front of him. “Wha-”

“It's hot chocolate,” Tucker interrupted him with a wave of his hand, “I figured you'd want some.”

“How did you even...?”

Tucker shrugged. “Lucky guess.”

“Whatever,” Wash replied, picking up the mug and bringing it to his lips. They sat in silence for a long time, so long that Tucker almost fell asleep. He was jerked back to reality when Washington spoke.

“What was it about, Caboose?”

“O'Malley.”

The room descended into silence once again. Caboose had barely touched his cocoa, the mug still at least half-full and probably cold by now.

“Do you want to talk about it?” Wash asked.

Caboose shook his head. “Not really...”

Wash frowned at Tucker, not quite sure what to do. “You want to go back to bed then?”

Caboose looked up. “Will you stay with me?”

Wash smiled slightly. “Sure, Caboose. I'll stay with you.” He stood up from the table. Tucker grabbed the mugs and put them in the sink, figuring he'd wash them tomorrow. The three of them headed down the hallway to Caboose and Tucker's shared room. Tucker immediately crashed onto his bed and rolled over, muttering a soft, “Night.”

Caboose climbed into his bed, Wash right next to him, and snuggled into the older man's chest. “Try not to kick me this time,” Wash said, knowing it would happen anyway.

“Okay. Goodnight, Agent Washingtub.”

“It's- Never mind, goodnight, Caboose.”


End file.
